


alone with nothing but our scars

by auras



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, this is not a soulmate AU fic i am sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 01:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14706815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auras/pseuds/auras
Summary: It's funny, the cliché of soulmates.





	alone with nothing but our scars

**Author's Note:**

> the title and fic is inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QANyZPaIo7g)
> 
> thank you to [mo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/notrover) for being my beta and just dealing with my iwaois in general
> 
> [joey](http://fiorret.tumblr.com) made [ amazing art](https://fiorret.tumblr.com/post/174059850505/alone-with-nothing-but-our-scars-by-auras) for this too thank you so much!!

_I am so in love with you that there isn’t anything else._

_— Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms_

 

❖❖❖

 

It’s funny, Iwaizumi thinks, that people used to refer to them as an inseparable duo. Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Made for each other. Soulmates. 

It’s funny, the idea of two people made for each other even before they were born.

He’d never liked the concept of the red string of fate that Hanamaki had talked so fervently about, back in high school.

It’s funny, the idea of two people being linked together by a single red thread, winding their lives so intricately together such that they’d always end up in each others’ arms, because fate decreed it. 

 

That was the problem, wasn’t it?

At the end of the day, that was all it was: a thin, flimsy piece of string. All it would take is a single tug in another direction.

 

_Snap._

 

❖

 

Iwaizumi and Oikawa meet when they are six.

 

Well, Oikawa is six, and Iwaizumi is six-years-and-one-month old—something he doesn’t let Oikawa forget, ever. Oikawa is having his birthday party, and he’d invited everyone from his class at school as well as a few of his other friends to go.

Iwaizumi doesn’t really have anyone that he’s particularly close to, so although he does know most of the people at the party, all of them have their own friend groups and cliques they’re hanging out with and he’s left standing awkwardly in the corner of Oikawa’s backyard.

“Hey.” A voice draws Iwaizumi’s attention and he turns his gaze to meet with the birthday boy’s. “What’re you doing?”  
  
“Standing,” Iwaizumi deadpans, wishing to the gods above that they’d make Oikawa leave him alone. Didn’t he have people to hang out with anyway, being the birthday boy and all?

“No, I meant like,” Oikawa frowns, “aren’t you gonna hang out with the other guys?”

Iwaizumi shrugs. “I’m not really friends with them. We aren’t close and rarely talk anyway.”

Oikawa perks up at this, for some reason. “I’m not really close with any of them either,” he confesses. “ _Okaa-san_ just made me invite them because I didn’t know who else to invite. So now I don’t have anyone to hang out with.”

The smile on his face widens as he reaches to grip Iwaizumi’s arm. “Why don’t _we_ hang out together? It’ll be fun! I’ll teach you how to play volleyball—it’s super fun and my favourite thing to play—or we can play anything you choose!”

Iwaizumi curses the same gods before letting out a resigned sigh. “Fine. We can do what you want, I guess, since it’s your birthday.”

Oikawa lets out an overjoyed squeal as he tugs Iwaizumi by his arm into the house to grab a ball. Iwaizumi vaguely wonders whether he made the right choice by agreeing to the other boy’s demands.

 

(It was the right choice though, he thinks years later. And no matter what, Iwaizumi tells himself, he doesn’t regret it and he wouldn’t change that for the world.)

 

❖

 

Iwaizumi and Oikawa become best friends when they are seven.

 

To be fair, Iwaizumi had always thought of Oikawa as his best friend because Oikawa was the only one who was willing to go bug-catching with him, promising to be quiet and insisting that he wanted to go even though Iwaizumi knew how much Oikawa hated bugs.

They spend almost all of their time together now, mostly playing volleyball or going bug-catching. They spend their nights over at each other’s houses too, watching movies and having sleepovers. Iwaizumi spends so much time at Oikawa’s house now, his mother starts joking about how he’s practically a resident there and Auntie’s other son now.

He knows that she’s happy that he’s made such a close friend though, because she’ll beam at him as she ruffles his hair, telling him to have fun and take care of Oikawa. He nods back in return and promises that he will.

 

The two boys are sitting huddled on Oikawa’s futon, wrapped in a thick swath of blankets under their hastily made blanket fort. 

“Hey, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispers softly, poking the other boy’s cheek.

“What?”

“You’re my best friend, Iwa-chan. I’m glad it’s you,” Oikawa hums, hooking his arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulder and pressing himself closer until Iwaizumi can feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart.

“Stop being weird, dummy,” he grumbles, thankful that it’s dark because he knows Oikawa would tease him relentlessly if he could see the sudden flush of his cheeks.

 

He doesn’t say it, but Iwaizumi can tell that Oikawa knows he feels the same.

 

❖

 

Iwaizumi comes out to his best friend when he’s sixteen.

 

He’s not sure why he tells Oikawa first; he hasn’t even told his own mother about it yet, but he trusts his best friend. 

He’s sleeping over at Oikawa’s, and the other boy is rambling on about his most recent girlfriend—well, _ex-_ girlfriend now—and how it was unfair that he’d been dumped when he was so “nice” and “romantic” to her. Iwaizumi’s perfectly content listening to Oikawa drone on about the things the other boy had done for her, pretending that it’s himself in place of the other girl, wishing that he could date as freely as Oikawa did. But then Oikawa drops the bomb.

“Hey, do you have any girls you’re interested in, Iwa-chan?”

It’s a simple question, and Iwaizumi could have denied it by either saying that he’d didn’t, or lied by giving Oikawa a random girl’s name. He doesn’t though, because he doesn’t want to lie to his best friend. 

“I don’t—I don’t like girls, Oikawa,” he tells Oikawa tentatively, bracing himself for rejection.

“Oh,” is what Oikawa says instead, but he barely misses a beat before pressing, “Well then, do you have any guys you’re interested in?”

And that’s that. 

Iwaizumi takes this as his friend’s acceptance of his sexuality, and he’s relieved that Oikawa didn’t turn him away or tell him that he didn’t want Iwaizumi as his best friend anymore. Iwaizumi doesn’t let himself acknowledge the thought, but he thinks that he wouldn’t have known what to do if his best friend had chosen to leave him.

“Stop being so nosy, asshole,” he laughs in mock annoyance as he shakes off the thought, reaching over from his futon to poke at the other boy’s arm.

Oikawa sticks out his tongue before going on his usual tangent about how he should have best friend privileges which somehow equates to having Iwaizumi share every single detail of his love life with him, to which Iwaizumi retorts back easily.

Nothing has changed, Oikawa still wants Iwaizumi as his best friend and treats him the same. They’re all right.

As he’s lying in Oikawa’s room later that night, hearing the gentle snores coming from his right and staring up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars on Oikawa’s ceiling, Iwaizumi finally lets out an audible sigh of relief. He thanks the stars and the universe for giving him someone like Oikawa as his best friend.

 

He’d do anything to make sure that they remain best friends, he tells himself, no matter what.

 

❖

 

Iwaizumi falls when he is eighteen.

 

He starts to pay more attention to his best friend. He’s always had, but he notices the little details now. Like the graceful arch of Oikawa’s back when he jumps to serve, the gentle curve of his nose, the small quirk of his lips when he smiles—a real smile, tender and soft, unlike the saccharine one he gives his fangirls. 

Iwaizumi wonders what it would be like to press his palms against that very same back as he holds the other boy to his chest, what it would feel like to lean in and bump their noses together, what it would taste like to press his own lips against Oikawa’s soft and warm ones.

He’s fallen too hard, and he knows it.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa send him sympathetic looks sometimes, like they know. “You’re staring, Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa would warn him gently, pressing his hand against Iwaizumi’s back, bringing the shorter boy back from his daydreaming.

Iwaizumi has never been a crier, even as a child, but he’s ashamed to say that he had spent one too many nights at Hanamaki’s house, beer in hand as he lets his friend hold him and murmur sympathetic consolations as Iwaizumi shakes and sobs, bitter taste on his tongue and a burn in his chest that he tells himself is from the alcohol.

Iwaizumi begins to wonder if the rest of the team has picked up on it too, because they start to act differently around him, he thinks. Like how Yahaba is more careful with his displays of affection towards Kyoutani now, or how on multiple occasions Iwaizumi catches Kindaichi’s gaze darting between Oikawa and himself before the younger boy opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, only to be silenced by a sharp jab of Kunimi’s elbow to his ribs.

He wonders why Oikawa is the only one who doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

It’s okay though, because he’s willing to wait for Oikawa.

Some things in life are worth waiting for, his mother had told him when he was a child. Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa is one of them.

 

Iwaizumi is used to falls. As a kid, he had always been too rough, often going home sporting new cuts and bruises with plasters stuck onto every limb, battle scars from the day’s adventures. His mother would fuss every time, but he’d tell her that it’s okay. And it was, because whenever he fell Oikawa would be there to offer his arm and pull Iwaizumi up, help him to his feet.

Not this time.

 

Iwaizumi is eighteen when he falls, and for the first time in his life Oikawa cannot be there to help him up.

 

❖

 

Oikawa meets _her_ when he is twenty.

 

He’s had plenty of girlfriends before, Iwaizumi knows this, but there’s something different about the way Oikawa acts around this girl.

Oikawa had told Iwaizumi once, back when they were in their first year in Aoba Johsai when his popularity was just beginning to spike, that sometimes he just accepted confessions from girls because he felt bad.

“They always look at me with really pitiful gazes and I’d feel guilty so I’d oblige and agree to date them,” he’d said, “but they always dump me really quickly in a week or so after that.” He had frowned then, eyes full of an emotion that Iwaizumi couldn’t pinpoint. “They always tell me that I never pay enough attention to them because I’m always too focused on volleyball. And they’re right, I guess, but it’s also because they’re not _the one_ , y’know? I just don’t feel right when I’m together with them. There aren’t any sparks or anything, no matter how hard I try.”  

 

This girl is different.

She’s a student at Oikawa’s university, and Oikawa breaks the news of their getting together to Iwaizumi over one of their phone calls, telling Iwaizumi that he met a girl on campus and she’d said yes after he asked her out. They had really hit it off after that and they’ve been dating for a month now.  

“I think you two will get along well, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, voice bubbling with genuine excitement and glee, “Fumiko-chan is really cute and smart and funny, and she used to be an athlete too. I’m glad I asked her out that day, it must’ve been fate that I met her.”

Oikawa has never been the one to ask someone out before. This girl must be really special. Iwaizumi bites his lower lip, feeling blood drawn from where his incisors had cut into the soft flesh.

He wonders why humans were made so soft, so vulnerable, so easily hurt.

A broken lip, a broken heart. He can’t breathe.

Iwaizumi wonders whether, if he was a girl, Oikawa would love him back.

He knows he can’t say it though, so instead he barks out a forced laugh before teasing, “Careful you don’t scare her away, Shittykawa. She sounds too perfect for someone like you.”

“God, yeah she is,” Oikawa hums in agreement, before dropping his voice into a whisper like he’s letting Iwaizumi in on a secret. “I’m pretty sure she’s _The One,_  Iwa-chan.”

In the silence of his dorm room, Iwaizumi is pretty sure that he hears his heart shatter.

He can feel himself start to shake as his throat begins to constrict, and his vision blurs. He forces his voice to stay even as he replies, “You’ve only been together for a month, idiot. Be careful, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath, feeling the cool air he inhales jab at his lungs.

It hurts, everything hurts. He can’t breathe.

He’s vaguely aware of Oikawa saying something along the lines of _“You’re such a mother hen, Iwa-chan.”_ and Iwaizumi laughs a laugh that sounds too flat even to his ears.

“Someone has to look out for you, dumbass,” he retorts, causing Oikawa to chuckle before they change the topic quickly. They hang up soon though, because Oikawa tells Iwaizumi that he sounds tired, and “Don’t you have lessons tomorrow, Iwa-chan? Better get some beauty sleep, you’ll need it.”

Iwaizumi hates it. Hates how Oikawa can read him like a book even if they aren’t in the same room. Hates how he himself can’t do the same. He hates how he’s not able to keep his own emotions in check anymore.

Iwaizumi feels an ugly seed of jealousy in his chest, digging its roots deeper into his heart and spreading as it grows and twines around his chest and lungs and heart.

He can’t breathe.

 

Despite Oikawa’s words, he doesn’t sleep.

Instead, he spends the night hunched over the sink, retching until he’s physically empty too, and he can no longer tell whether the dull throb in his chest is from his vomiting or his broken, broken heart.

 

❖

 

Oikawa gets married when he is twenty-five.

 

He’s been together with Fumiko for five years now.

They’re the perfect couple, really. Iwaizumi knows that he would have been happy that Oikawa had found someone like her, if he wasn’t still so in love with his best friend.

She’s beautiful, kind-hearted, charming and gentle and so much more. She’s flawless, and perfect for Oikawa.

She’s everything that Iwaizumi isn’t.

He feels the jealousy claw at his throat every time he sees them, laughing and smiling and holding hands. He feels the thorns in his heart sink deeper every time he hears Oikawa tell her that he loves her.

 

Oikawa asks him to be the best man at his wedding. Of course he does.

Iwaizumi plasters on a smile and says yes as he claps his best friend on the back. Of course he does.

 

Oikawa might be making his vows of love and devotion to Fumiko in a few months’ time, but Iwaizumi had already made his years ago, back when they were seven year olds with each other’s backs and not a care in the world.

 

 

He gets the wedding invitation a month later.

Iwaizumi stares at the pristine and elegant card. It looks awkward and out of place in his calloused, trembling hands. He’s vaguely aware of the muted buzzing of his phone somewhere to his side, and he’s pretty sure it’s either Hanamaki or Matsukawa messaging him about the invitation.

Somehow, physically holding the paper in his hands makes the entire situation more real. The reality of it all comes crashing down on him.

Oikawa is getting married.

Iwaizumi doesn’t know how many times a heart can break before it shatters beyond repair and recognition, but he’s pretty sure that he’s either close or already at that point.

 

Subconsciously, he remembers a promise to himself years ago; a young and naïve boy in love, swearing that he’d wait for Oikawa as long as it took.

He was a fool, Iwaizumi thinks numbly, always waiting and turning back with his arm outstretched with an offering hand.

 _Stupid_.

Oikawa had always been ahead of him all this time, never once looking back.

 

 

The wedding takes place on a clear spring day; the perfect weather for the perfect wedding for a perfect couple.

Iwaizumi maintains a smile throughout the day until his cheeks start to ache, but it’s okay. He’s used to the aching by now.

He stands by Oikawa during the ceremony, as he always has. The blood roaring in his ears drowns out the groom’s and bride’s wedding vows.

He gives a speech like Oikawa wants him to, reminiscing about their childhood, joking about Oikawa, smiling as he talks about the couple, and finally, offering his congratulations to the newlywed couple.

It feels like he’s passing Oikawa on to Fumiko. 

Iwaizumi knows that she loves Oikawa, and she will continue to love him for years to come as she had vowed to do, but it’s just that—

_It won’t be the same._

He squeezes his eyes shut as he gives Oikawa the biggest grin he can muster when he finishes his speech. No one has to know it is to hide the tears in his eyes.

 

Matsukawa finds him during the reception, offering him a drink which Iwaizumi gratefully accepts.

“You okay?”

Iwaizumi inhales deeply. “I’m alright,” he says. He’s not all right.

“I know it’s not my place,” Matsukawa says carefully, “but don’t you think it’s time that you move on? I’m saying this as your friend, Iwaizumi, because I hate seeing you hurting like this.”

Matsukawa is looking at him with so much pity in his eyes that Iwaizumi has to turn his gaze away.

His eyes land on a bouquet of roses left on one of the chairs. They’re dark crimson, like the lips of the bride who gets to kiss Oikawa tonight, like Iwaizumi’s own bleeding, splintered heart.

Roses, which symbolise _true love,_  but only if they’re coloured red. Yellow roses mean _friendship, jealousy_ and _a broken heart._ Iwaizumi has just been the wrong colour all this while.

Iwaizumi gives a rueful laugh, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I can, Matsukawa.”

He doesn’t elaborate, because how can he?

How can he tell Matsukawa that he’s been with Oikawa so long now, that he’s loved the other man for so long now he isn’t sure that he can love someone else the same? How can he tell Matsukawa that Oikawa is _everything_ to him, even if the other doesn’t feel the same?

 

 

It’s funny, Iwaizumi thinks, how fate works sometimes. Cruel, cruel fate, without regard for who it hurts along the way. 

It’s funny, he thinks again as he feels his heart clench, the concept of the red string of fate linking soulmates.

Iwaizumi turns to look at Oikawa as the other man loops an arm around his wife’s shoulders, laughing at something a guest had said.

 

_Snap._

**Author's Note:**

> _I guess it’s the same way trees grow around the very vines that are killing them, so they’re strangled and sustained all at once. After a long time, even pain can be a comfort._  
>  — Lauren Oliver, Rooms  
> 
> 
> \-----
> 
> come yell at me on [tumblr](http://iwaois.tumblr.com)


End file.
